Synopsis

The pain was sharp, but something else cut deeper. A strange bond had formed in the recovery room with the man who’d inflicted it – the enemy soldier he'd been critically wounded by. "My boots," he muttered, the thought returning like a persistent ache. “That’s all he wanted. Just my lousy boots. His feet were freezing. I would have done the same thing, given them away in that cold. He was just a guy, like me, and I shot him. I killed him, for a pair of boots. How can I ever look at a pair of sh